


Sanctuary

by HermitLibrary_Archivist



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-28
Updated: 2008-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-19 22:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4762979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermitLibrary_Archivist/pseuds/HermitLibrary_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Helen Parkinson</p>
<p>Blake and Avon seek sanctuary, but their host is awfully reminiscent of Dracula...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Judith and Aralias, the archivists: This story was originally archived at [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Hermit_Library), which was closed due to maintenance costs and lack of time. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2015. We posted announcements about the move and emailed authors as we imported, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hermitlibrary/profile). 
> 
> This work has been backdated to 26th of May 2008, which is the last date the Hermit.org archive was updated, not the date this fic was written. In some cases, fics can be dated more precisely by searching for the zine they were originally published in on [Fanlore](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Main_Page).

Avon looked doubtfully through the gloom up to the house Blake indicated with such enthusiasm. A light showed through one of the lower windows, but, although Avon was prepared to concede that it was the first sign of life they had found since leaving the city, it was so unlike anything he had seen before he found it unnerving.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" He asked finally.

"No." Blake replied, "But you need to rest.

Avon bristled, ready to argue.

"Damn it Avon, It's true. So do I for that matter. Come on we have to stop the bleeding and we are not going to be able to do that while charging about the countryside." As he spoke Blake bent and pulled Avon to his feet. The other man winced as the movement jarred his shoulder. Then, with Blake supporting most of Avon's weight, they walked up the narrow path to the door.

It hadn't looked to be a long walk from the road, but by the time they reached the door it was almost full dark and getting cold. Avon leant against the wall to the side of the door to watch Blake. A single lamp hung from a blackened hook embedded in the wall, it's flame was yellow and guttered slightly. By this fitful light Avon looked pale and drawn, certain now his decision to stop here had been right Blake turned his attention to the door. With his left hand he searched for a bell right hand resting on his gun.

The door was wooden Blake was surprised to note and he stared for a moment at it's dark, carved surface. Even here on this largely rural world wood was prohibitively expensive. Avon shivered. Recalled to himself Blake knocked on the hard surface. "No bell." He explained to the clearly startled Avon.

"They won't have heard that." Avon replied. Then he pointed to a metal shape that decorated the centre of the door. "Use that."

Blake reached for the shape and found that the lower half pulled away from the door and, when released, made a loud and satisfying noise as it hit the metal plate that lay beneath. The sound echoed deep in the house, then died. Blake repeated the motion as Avon winced at the noise.

"Loud enough to wake the dead." Blake said. He raised his hand again, then dropped it back to his side as the door began to open.

Light and warmth flooded out of the house and for a moment Blake was blinded, the figure that stood framed by the doorway was just a dark shape.

"Good evening." The voice was cultured and polite. Gradually Blake's vision cleared and he found himself facing a man at least as tall as Gan but incredibly thin.

"Good evening." Blake managed finally. The man's face was pale, devoid of expression. The eyes, which bulged slightly, were of the palest blue. "I wonder if you could help us? My friend is hurt and we have no shelter."

The man's expression did not change. "My Master is sleeping at the moment, but he will most readily offer you both shelter and medical aid." As he spoke he stepped out into the night, Blake took a step backwards as he realised he would have to reprise his guess as to the man's height. He was at least a foot taller than Gan. A faint smell hung about the man, an earthy, musty smell Blake couldn't quite place. "Come in." The man intoned.

Blake turned to help Avon whose eyes were closed and in the light from the door he was for the first time able to see just how heavily blood stained the other's blue jacket was. Gently Blake pulled Avon's arm across his shoulder, Avon winced and tried to pull away.

"Permit me." Their host said and, pushing Blake aside, gathered Avon in his arms, lifting the injured man with ease, even though Avon tried to resist what he no doubt saw as a great indignity. Holding his less than willing and deeply embarrassed guest in powerful but gentle arms the big man entered the house. Blake, following on his heels, swallowed his amusement at Avon's all to predictable reaction to being helped in this way and tried not to laugh.

The door opened into a large room the like of which neither Blake nor Avon had seen before. The floor was tiled, white and black squares, like a chess board. The walls were half wood panels, then plaster to the ceiling and hung with pictures framed in gold. A number of doors led off from this room which Blake identified now as merely a hallway, and a wide staircase led up to a balcony and, Blake assumed, the sleeping quarters. The hallway was warm and lit by thick white candles. Still carrying Avon their host led the way through one of the doors into a smaller, book filled room.

Blake's eyes had widened in appreciation at the sight of so many real paper books. A fire burned in an arched stone alcove and facing it were a sofa and two chairs, which appeared, to Blake's admittedly inexpert gaze, to be covered in blue velvet.

The big man lowered Avon, who was, Blake noted, as fascinated as he by the books, onto the sofa. "If you gentlemen would wait here I shall fetch my Master."

"If your master has just gone to bed..." Blake began, his voice trailed off when faced with the other's blank, polite stare.

"My Master will be rising shortly sir. He will be most eager to meet you and your companion." He nodded towards Avon who had struggled to sitting position, knees drawn up to his chest, injured right arm clutched to his side.

"My friend needs medical help."Blake said."Is there a doctor nearby?"

"My Master is something of a physician. I shall bring water and bindings for your friend's injury." The man answered as he left the room. Blake went to Avon's side and began to remove the other's jacket

Avon winced. "Be careful Blake." He hissed, "It hurts."

"Sorry." Blake muttered deeply concerned. The shirt beneath the jacket was wet and sticky with blood. He helped Avon remove it but left the rough bandaging in place for the moment. It was sodden with blood, but did appear to have stopped the the flow.

Avon settled back against the cushions and closed his eyes, his mouth drawn to a thin line in pain. Blake watched him for moment then looked about the room.

"This is some house." He said finally.

Avon opened his eyes. "Yes. Somewhat technologically backward however."

"Backward or not, this is a beautiful room." Blake insisted as Avon closed his eyes once more.

"Thank you Sir. You are most kind." A deep cultured voice replied from the door.

Blake spun round, coming to his feet. The man who stood in the doorway was tall, about Blake's own height, but very thin. His hair was dark, almost black, brushed straight back from a high, pale forehead. His eyes were dark, long lashed, the face pale, intelligent looking. He reminded Blake of Avon. He was dressed in a dark jacket and trousers of a style with which Blake was not familiar. He was urbane, sophisticated and totally at ease, even with armed strangers in his house. Blake suddenly felt scruffy and clumsy.

The man smiled. "My name is Vamesh." As he spoke he stepped into the room holding a long, slim hand out to Blake. "My man did not know your names."

Blake took the proffered hand in his own, surprised at the strength of the other's grip and the coldness of the fingers. "I am Blake." He answered, then, releasing the hand he stepped back. "This is Avon."

Vamesh turned to greet Avon smiling. His smile vanished at the sight of the injured man. A look of hunger flashed in his eyes quickly turning to concern. "I apologise," he said going to kneel beside Avon. Avon did not stir, having finally surrendered to exhaustion. "I had not realised your friend was so badly hurt. We must tend the injury soon. I shall take him to one of the bedrooms." He moved slightly, clearly it was his intention to carry Avon, Blake got in his way.

"It's all right, I'll carry him." Something in Vamesh's reaction to Avon worried Blake, he wasn't sure quite what. Vamesh stepped to one side and Blake lifted Avon who moaned softly, but did not regain consciousness.

Vamesh led the way up the stairs and into one of the upper rooms. Blake followed, grateful when Vamesh indicated the bed. Avon was not really that heavy but Blake was tired too.

The bedroom was as stunning as the rooms downstairs. The walls were wood panelled all the way to the carved, panelled ceiling. A vast window dominated one wall, looking out onto the night. Vamesh moved to pull dark red curtains across it as Blake lay Avon on the huge bed. The bed was also hung with dark curtains, the sheets were white and a heavy red blanket lay across the foot.

Avon opened his eyes as Vamesh moved to stand with Blake. He focused on Blake's face with difficulty. "Blake?"

"I'm here." Blake replied, touching his hand lightly. "Avon we're going to have to look at the wound." Avon nodded his understanding.

Vamesh taped Blake lightly on the arm and handed him a glass of milky fluid. "It will kill the pain." He said. Blake took it from him and Vamesh produced a pair of scissors. He bent over Avon to cut away the crude bandage. Avon jumped as cold metal touched his flesh. Vamesh drew back and smiled slightly. "Perhaps you should do it." He passed the scissors to Blake. "I will have Sando bring some water."

As soon as Vamesh left them Blake helped Avon to sit up and offered him the glass. Avon drank obligingly. Once he was finished Blake lowered him back to the pillows and began to cut at his earlier first aid. Avon's left hand clenched into a tight fist as Blake worked.

Their host was back at Blake's side as the injury was uncovered, using the water provided Blake cleaned the wound. He knew he was hurting Avon and so was gratified when Vamesh's potion took effect. Avon's fist relaxed and he lost consciousness. Examining the wound Blake confirmed his earlier fears, Avon's arm and collar bone were broken and the flesh round the injury, slightly charred by the blast, was still bleeding. Blake, using the things Vamesh provided, padded the wound as best he could, then rebandaged it trying to immobilise Avon's arm as much as possible.

"What happened?" Vamesh asked.

"We were ambushed in Lacon City." Blake replied. "We were looking for someone and fell foul of some..thieves."

Vamesh nodded. "Lacon City is always full of thieves and such like. It is a dangerous place for off worlders, even our own avoid it." He paused, " your friend is lucky to have survived."

"No." Blake shook his head. "I'm lucky. They were shooting at me." He had finally sorted out the chaotic shambles in his mind. The crowded square, Darren's failure to arrive, then being recognised by that bounty hunter. The bounty on his head had definitely attracted the bounty hunter's attention and he had closed in with a colleague. Blake hadn't seen them. Apparently deciding a dead prisoner would be easier to handle than a living man, their leader had fired with no warning, but Avon had seen. He seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to spotting danger. He had knocked Blake aside and given them a chance to fight back. It hadn't been a long fight. The bounty hunter appeared to have enemies in the small, crowded market place and Blake and Avon had found unexpected allies. However the help had faded as soon as the shooting was over. The remaining thugs fled as soon as their leader went down and unwilling to offer help to off worlders and thus draw attention to themselves the villagers had withdrawn. Avon and Blake were left left with no option but to run. Even here the authorities would have questions to ask and Federation advisors to draw upon.

"Off worlders?" Blake asked.

Vamesh looked up from pulling the sheet over Avon's sleeping form. Avon's clothes lay in a heap on the floor. Blake hadn't noticed Vamesh strip him. "You are not of this world." Vamesh smiled. "That is obvious. Where are you from?"

"Earth,originally." Blake told him, somewhat chagrined he had not been paying attention and left Avon in this man's care.

"I too come from Earth." Vamesh told him. "long ago. I have based the appearance of my home on houses built on Earth in the Old Calendar."

"It's beautiful." Blake agreed.

"Come let us go down. I offer you hospitality then do not feed you, disgraceful..."

"But...." Blake looked at Avon.

"He will sleep for hours now." Vamesh assured Blake. "Don't worry Sando will check on him. Come, you too must keep up your strength and I would love to hear why you came to this world." He pulled Blake out of the door.

The two men entered a different room when they came down stairs, Blake was still reluctant to leave Avon but his host's hold was not to be easily broken. The room was in keeping with the house, but was no library. It was dominated by a wooden table and chairs, a fire burned fiercely adding its light to that of the candles. Vamesh motioned Blake to one of the chairs then sat opposite him and rang a small bell.

"May I ask why you use candles for light?"

"They suit my home, and I prefer their light to that of electrics." Vamesh replied. Sando had entered while his master was speaking. He put a plate on the table in front of Blake then offered the rebel a choice of food from a number of china dishes. Blake hesitated. "Please my friend eat what you wish." Vamesh encouraged. Blake started to fill his plate, then, noticing Vamesh had nothing save a glass of wine paused. Vamesh noticed. "I eat very little my friend. I cannot manage such rich foods, but I like to please my guests."

Blake began to eat and found the food very much to his taste. Meat and vegetables such as he had never seen on Earth, and the wine, Vila would probably be prepared to kill for some of it. Thoughts of the thief reminded Blake how much danger he and Avon were in. Avon's bracelet was useless and Liberator not due back for another twenty four hours. Even then the teleport might not function, something in the atmosphere of this world interfered with it's function, making accurate coordinates difficult to set up. They were, to put in bluntly, in a mess,.

"why did you leave Earth?" Vamesh asked, breaking into Blake's thoughts. "The Federation perhaps?" His slim, long fingered hands were wrapped around the wine glass and he rubbed it's rim across his lower lip. The dark eyes were fixed on Blake's face.

Blake hesitated. There was no real Federation presence here, yet it was always possible that Federation sympathies existed. Or just people who would like the money his capture, and Avon's, would bring. However Vamesh didn't strike him as an opportunist and he found he already half trusted the man. "I did not..." Blake said slowly considering the words carefully, "see eye to eye with the authorities."

Vamesh smiled. "My complaint exactly. I chose to come here because it is so like Earth and I made it my home. You however...?"

"Visiting. We came to meet someone who failed to appear. "Blake's tone was bitter.

"You have a ship? A crew?" Vamesh asked, then he glanced at the large clock that stood behind Blake. "Forgive me!" He exclaimed leaping to his feet. Blake had picked up a piece of fruit and was cutting it into slices with a small knife. As Vamesh came to his feet Blake jumped and the knife slipped cutting deeply into his thumb.

"Damn!" Blake swore and dropped both knife and fruit. Vamesh was suddenly at his side. He grabbed Blake's injured hand and took the thumb into his mouth. "AHHH!" Blake exclaimed snatching his hand out of the other's hold. He pressed a napkin to the cut to stem the flow of blood. Vamesh was looking at him his eyes gleaming and slightly hooded, Blake's blood still stained his lower lip. As Blake watched, both fascinated and repulsed, Vamesh licked at the blood and smiled. Abruptly Blake felt quite sick.

"You would like to sleep now?" Vamesh asked as Sando came back into the room. He seemed totally unaware of Blake's revulsion with his behaviour. "Please show our guest to his room." He told the servant.

"Don't worry about me." Blake told them. "I'll stay with Avon...I don't want him left alone."

"He will be watched. Your room is next to his." Vamesh said curtly as if he had finally noticed Blake's reaction. "I have to leave. I shall see you tomorrow." He left the room.

Blake found he was trembling, his thumb stung and the idea that Vamesh would take it into his mouth sickened him. He could still feel the cold damp interior of the other man's mouth, the icy touch of his lips. Blake shivered.

Sando waited, expressionlessly. "I will show you to your room." He said and it sounded like an order.

At Avon's door Blake stopped, "I'll stay with Avon." He insisted. "He shouldn't be alone."

"Very well, Sir. I shall bring some bedding through to you."

"Thank you." Blake replied, glad that Sando hadn't seen fit to argue as his master had. He entered the room. It looked much as it had when he had last been there except for the glass and water jug on the table beside the bed.

Avon, still sleeping, was pale and too cold to Blake's cautious touch but evidently not deeply asleep for he opened his eyes. "Blake?" A question, he evidently couldn't make out who was bending over him in the dim half light of the candles.

"Yes." Blake glanced to the side table and found the glass of water, "Would you like a drink?" Avon nodded and Blake slipped an arm under his shoulders lifting the other man slightly while he held the glass to his lips. Avon drank greedily, relaxing finally in Blake's hold, his breathing evened out and he drifted to sleep again.

"Oh good Sir, you got him to drink it." Sando's voice. The servant had entered the room almost soundlessly with an arm load of blankets.

"It wasn't just water then?" Blake whispered.

"No. A painkiller and sedative. He would not take it from me."

Blake looked down at the sleeping man. Never take anything on trust do you? He thought.....But he just did came the unbidden protest. Blake shrugged the thought off, figuring Avon out was beyond him at the best of times here...... He turned to watch Sando set up a bed in the chair by the fire. "Your master has gone out?" He asked. Sando nodded. Blake walked away from the bed. "I think I can manage." He told Sando. The servant looked at him for a moment,almost as if he didn't understand then nodded and left the room. The man moved like a ghost, no sound attended his passing at all. Blake shivered.

Blake set to work. He moved a chair round so instead of facing the fire he faced Avon, at the same time Taking a blanket from the bed Sando had made up he sat down. Putting one of the pillows behind his head Blake settled back,not to sleep, just to relax his body, he literally ached with exhaustion. His thumb throbbed in time with the beating of his heart and he unwound the napkin to look at the cut. The bleeding had stopped, but dried blood still stained the skin. Without thinking Blake put his thumb in his mouth it in an attempt to clean the cut. Then he froze, remembering Vamesh's mouth. Blake shivered and yanked his thumb out of his mouth sickened anew. Cold all over he climbed out of his makeshift bed and walked over to the table. Using one of the unused bandages left after their attentions to Avon and the water from the jug he cleaned his thumb and wrapped a dry dressing round it. He checked Avon again. The other man did not stir. He was still pale, his hands cold. Blake pulled the blankets closer about Avon then returned to his chair settling to his self imposed vigil.

Blake was worried about Liberator. Although they were not due back for another day he had rather expected them to be early. Taking the vaccine to Avalon had been urgent, but should not have been dangerous, and should not have taken all the time he had allowed for. That was why Blake had been prepared to let them go without Avon and himself. Meeting Darren had been essential, the computer he was supposed to show them was advanced and dangerous to the rebels, but it had all gone wrong.

Gradually Blake drifted to sleep, a restless, fitful sleep. Ready to react should Avon move or Vamesh turn out to have gone looking for their enemies in Lacon City. Blake doubted the strange man was a danger, but Avon's habitual suspicion was catching, or so in seemed.

Someone was bending over him. Slim, cool fingers touched his face. Blake looked up, trying to see who it was, but his body responded only very sluggishly. He could make out no features on the pale face that seemed to hover in the air over him. The figure backed away, turning towards the bed and Avon. The tall, dark shape seemed to become clearer as it drew away from him. It bent over Avon. A sense of urgency invaded Blake as the shape moved and blackness seemed to envelope Avon. Avon moaned.

Blake woke abruptly. It was early morning, sunlight was streaming through a gap in the curtains he was alone in the room, save for Avon's unmoving form. Yet the sense of fear and evil he had noticed in the dream hung in the air. The fire was low, the air chilled, perhaps that explained it. Blake got up, stiff from his night in the chair and opened the curtains. The morning was fresh and clear a slight mist drifted low in the air and frost dusted the grass with silver. It was a beautiful day. As the light hit the figure on the bed it stirred and Blake thought he heard his name called. With surprise he realised that it was the same soft call that had awakened him from his dream.

Avon's skin was waxy and felt cold to Blake's fingers, his pale lips bloodless. Blake felt a chill of fear. Was Avon still bleeding? He had been sure his ministrations of the night before had stopped it. Blake pulled the blankets down slightly to check, Avon shivered in the cold air and Blake noticed a little blood on the other's throat. It appeared Avon had scratched himself as he slept. There was no new blood on the bandaging.

"Blake?" Avon's voice was very soft.

"Here Avon." He replied shifting his gaze from the injured shoulder to Avon's face.

"Where are we?"

"Don't you remember? Vamesh's house. We found it last night."

"Vamesh?"

"Yes, I don't think you met him properly. No doubt he'll be about today."

"Liberator?"

"They're due in about fourteen hours." Blake replied. Avon closed his eyes and turned slightly. He cried out in pain as the movement put pressure on his broken shoulder. Blake caught him as he rolled back, curling slightly in a protective reflex. Avon was shivering with pain.

"Be still." Blake advised. He held Avon gently until the trembling stopped and Avon regained control of his breathing.

Finally Avon opened his eyes. "Remind me not to do that again." He said ruefully. Blake smiled slightly in relief at his tone, but before he could reply a soft knock sounded at the door and Sando entered. From the look on Avon's face it was clear he did not remember the tall servant from the night before. Possibly for the best, Blake conceded, considering the way Sando had carried him in.

"Good morning." Sando said slowly. "I have brought you some food. My Master felt you would not be able to rise so soon." This last was addressed to Avon. Sando placed the heavy laden tray on the side table. The smell of coffee reached Blake and his mouth watered. Avon watched Sando who moved towards the bed. "Do you need any help?"

"No." Avon shook his head and Blake could hear an edge of panic in his voice. "I can manage, but I would like my clothes back."

"I am sorry sir, but your garments were so badly damaged. However I shall find some replacements for you." He turned to Blake. "Do you require fresh clothing Sir?"

Again Blake was made to feel grubby, he nodded. "Please." Sando bowed slightly and left the two men alone.

"What," Avon asked. "Was that ?"

Blake smiled as he pulled the laden table closer to the bed. "That was Sando, Vamesh's servant." He studied Avon critically for a moment. "Can you sit up?"

"I can try." Avon replied, unwilling to miss out on what looked and smelt like a very nice meal. Blake moved to his side and, pulling the good arm round his shoulders, his own round Avon's waist, lifted him to a sitting position. It took a few moments as Avon proved to be able to do little himself. His eyes were closed and his breathing harsh by the time Blake had him upright, supported by a number of pillows, a light sheet drawn across his shoulders for warmth. Anxiously Blake watched him, only relaxing when Avon finally opened his eyes. The expression on Blake's face evidently annoyed Avon who scowled.

"Coffee ?" Blake asked, indicating the silver pot from which rose a thin column of steam and an enticing smell. "Anything to eat?" A plate containing a number of slices of toasted bread and some oddly shaped buns Blake couldn't at once identify lay close to the coffee pot.

"Just coffee." Avon replied. He was still in a deal of pain and it was making him nauseous now he was sitting upright. The coffee might, he reasoned, calm his stomach, food, he was certain, would not.

"I've never had real coffee before." Blake told Avon as he poured.

"I have." Avon replied.

Blake was surprised. Real coffee was a luxury few afforded on Earth. Usually only council members or the President's advisors and family. "When?" He asked passing a cup to Avon.

"Oh a long time ago." Avon was noncommittal and Blake realised he wasn't going to get any more information today. He would just have to store it up as another mystery about his secretive friend, perhaps one day..... "Is there any cream?" Avon interrupted his thoughts.

"Yes." Blake poured a little into Avon's cup, then did the same to his own. A sip confirmed what he had always heard, real coffee was nothing like the substitute served on Earth, he could get used to this. He looked at the laden plate and his stomach rumbled.

Avon smiled. "I think you should eat something."

"Yes." Blake had to agree, suiting action to word. With a full plate he moved to perch on the end of the bed, Avon didn't protest as Blake settled and began to tuck into his breakfast.

The gentle knock at the door sounded again and Sando entered carrying two bundles. "Your clothes gentlemen." He told them, placing a suit of the style Vamesh wore on the chair for Blake. To Avon he held out some dark silk pyjamas. Avon looked annoyed.

"I wanted clothes." He said petulantly.

"Avon I don't think you will be able to get up yet. These are the best idea." Blake said earning a glare from the man on the bed. Sando said nothing. He placed the pyjamas on the bed and withdrew.

"Do you really think so?" Avon said, shifting to sit more upright. As he did so the little colour there was in his face drained away.

Blake caught the empty coffee cup as it slipped from his fingers. "I do." He said softly. Avon opened his eyes. He knew that Blake was right about this, but giving in to this man was so hard. "I'm going to dress." Blake said. He picked up the clothes and went through the room's other door, into what he had discovered the night before was a bathroom. Doing his best to give Avon the space to give in without losing face, the time to recover himself.

It took Blake longer than usual to dress in the unfamiliar clothes. The outfit was tighter fitting than he usually wore. The trousers and jacket were a dark blue, a white shirt and loose fitting tie completed the ensemble. He looked in the mirror. All in all the effect wasn't too bad, the fit was good. The jacket was longer than he was used to, reaching past his knees but it lent him an air of elegance. He looked pale, lack of sleep and worry he supposed and his hair was slightly more unruly than was usual, but, Blake decided, on the whole, he presented a pleasing picture.

Avon was sitting on the edge of the bed wrapped in a sheet when Blake returned to the bedroom. "Avon," He admonished. "You could have hurt yourself."

Avon scowled. "I learnt to dress myself some time ago." He said. "I have no intention of breaking the habit now." He slid off the bed.

Blake dived forward and caught him as his knees buckled and held on silently waiting for Avon to regain his balance. Then he helped Avon walk to the bathroom door. Avon walked through on his own and quite audibly locked the door in Blake's face. Blake smiled to himself. Stubborn did not even begin to describe Avon, he hoped the other would not need help because it was going to be damned hard making him accept it.

Blake fastened his gun about his waist then lifted the teleport bracelet to his lips and tried to contact Liberator as he waited. No reply. It was too early, but he had hoped they would be there. A few hours in the medical unit and Avon would be fine, but if they stayed here...... He didn't finish the thought.

Avon was finding it difficult to dress one handed, but there was no way he was going to call for help. He clutched the side of the sink, blood loss and pain making him dizzy, waiting for the moment to pass. When his vision cleared he studied his reflection. Pale, far too pale, but that was to be expected. He noticed some scratches on his neck and a memory stirred. He followed it round as he dressed slowly, using it as a way to keep his mind focused. He couldn't move his injured arm very much, even thinking about moving it made him feel sick, but he managed to get his left arm down one sleeve of the pyjamas and then just draped the other over his shoulder, fastening a couple of buttons. A dark velvet dressing gown hung on the door, he pulled it down draping it across his shoulders for added warmth, he was incredibly cold. Avon looked at himself in the mirror, much as Blake had done. The dark clothes made him look paler still, but they would do and the fact he had got into them on his own should help to convince Blake he was not as helpless as the other man appeared to think he was. He unlocked the door.

Blake looked up in concern as Avon entered the room. He covered it quickly at the sight of the challenge in the other's eyes. Avon, his eyes fixed on Blake, daring him to move, made his way to one of the fire side chairs. Blake barely restrained the urge to offer help.

"Blake how did I cut my neck?" Avon asked, fingering the tiny scratch marks.

"I don't know." Blake replied, "I think you must have done it in your sleep. Why? Do they bother you?" Avon shook his head but something in his expression puzzled Blake. "Is there something wrong?" He asked, moving to sit in the chair opposite Avon.

"Nothing." Avon said, much to Blake's relief, he had realised it was a stupid question under the circumstances as soon as he said it. "It's just that I had the strangest dream." Avon looked directly at Blake. "I was bitten." He stated, then looked away. "Someone was in the room, dressed all in black. He touched me." Avon shivered. "He was so cold. Then he bent over me and bit my neck." Blake slid forward in the chair listening intently. "His mouth was cold. He drank my blood!" The last said almost incredulously and Avon shook himself trying to dispel the chill he felt when he recalled the dream. "Amazing what a little blood loss does for the imagination." He looked at Blake. "What?"

"I had a similar dream. Someone touched me, spoke to me. I don't remember what they said, then they went over to you. I couldn't see what they were doing but you called my name and I woke up."

Avon stared at him. "Was anyone there?"

"No. Shared nightmares?"

"Wonderful." Avon lent back in the chair eyes closing.

"Do you want to get back into bed ?"

"No!" He shook his head, but did not open his eyes.

Blake watched him for a while, realising that Avon was going to sleep. It wasn't worth the hassle of forcing him to bed so he waited until he was sure Avon was sleeping properly then he pulled a blanket from the bed and draped it across the other's knees. Avon stirred slightly but did not wake. Blake reached out and touched his face, too cold. The fire had almost died and Blake decided he would go to find Sando as he had no idea how to get in going again. Then he would locate Vamesh, he did after all owe the man his thanks.

Vamesh was nowhere to be found, but Blake discovered the house to be so fascinating he forgot he was looking for him. Each room was more wonderful than the last. Plush decorations, real wood, real books, silk, linen and velvet. Blake remembered President Sarkoff's love of old things and was sure the older man would adore this house. Blake also realised just how very rich Vamesh was to have all of this.

Blake finally found Sando, or more accurately, Sando found him. The servant came up behind Blake when he was exploring the library. His tread was so soft he was right behind Blake before the other became aware of him.

Blake jumped, spun round then froze. He straightened slowly and put away the gun he didn't remember drawing. "Where is your master?"

"The Master is sleeping." Sando replied. "Your friend was calling for you Sir."

With a guilty start Blake realised it was hours since he had left Avon, supposedly to find a way to relight the fire. "Thank You." He muttered and headed for the stairs at a run.

Avon was confused. He was cold, chilled to the bone and he hurt. Someone ought to he here, he thought, he had the strongest impression someone had promised they would be, but they weren't. He twisted, uncomfortable sitting in the chair and unable to find any comfort as every movement hurt his shoulder. The sheet that covered him felt heavy. Each crease a knife edge and each wrinkle seemed miles deep. The room was dark, occupied by whispering shadows and vague, half formed shapes. The door crashed open, someone lumbered into the room, huge and unwieldy they came to stand over him.

"Avon?" A voice bellowed, a long way away and indistinct, but unbearably loud. Avon groaned, trying to curl inwards, to shy away from the pain and noise. Hands reached for him and a face loomed into his field of view.

"Blake?" He managed as, just for a moment, he knew the man, but the face twisted and changed, pulling away from him, or perhaps he pulled away from it, Avon wasn't sure. "Blake?" He tried again and the face shattered, spinning away to leave him in blackness. Then the blackness began to fill with faces and sounds from the past. Avon screamed.

Slowly reality reformed around Avon. He was lying on a bed, a soft, comfortable and warm bed. A pillow supported his head, another his shoulder and arm. Blake's face hovered nearby, marked with worry and fear.

"Blake?" He said and the concerned lines of the other's face smoothed out slightly.

"Welcome back Avon. You had us scared for a while there."

"Us?" Avon puzzled, then he saw Sando stepping away from the bed, no expression on his face. Avon went cold again and shivered.

"Sando can you get the fire going?" Blake asked.

"Yes Sir."

"You had me worried." Blake repeated.

"I apologise." Avon said stiffly. He looked past Blake out of the window. It was growing dark. "What time is it?" The last thing he remembered clearly, wanted to remember clearly, was drinking coffee for breakfast.

"Early evening. Liberator should be here soon." Blake answered. He couldn't hide his relief. Avon had truly frightened him that afternoon. For a while Blake had believed that the other man was dying. Avon's delirium had been terrifying, he had failed to recognise Blake and had fought him as he tried to help. Some of the things Avon had said led Blake to conclude he was reliving at least part of what had happened to him while he had been a Federation prisoner, before the London. This brought home to Blake, finally, the fact that he was not the only one of his crew to have suffered at the hands of the Federation. He shied away from the idea, he had nightmares enough of his own. He did not need Avon's.

Blake's communicator sounded suddenly, both men jumped. He thumbed it open and acknowledged. "Blake, welcome back."

"Hello Blake." Jenna's voice. "It went well. How about you?"

Blake glanced at Avon. "Not so good. Darren didn't turn up and Avon's hurt. How long until you will be in range?"

"Normally just a few minutes, but Zen says the atmospheric conditions are such that the teleport could be dangerous for some hours yet." Jenna informed them, it sounded as if she were quoting the ships computer verbatim.

"As soon as Zen says it's safe come down. We need a new bracelet for Avon." Blake commanded. Avon was leaning back against the pillows, eyes closed, as if he had no interest in the conversation. "And make it soon Jenna." Blake added in a whisper moving away from the bed.

"It's bad?" Jenna asked him.

"Bad enough." A knock sounded at the door. "As soon as you can Jenna. Blake out." The door opened and Sando walked in carrying a tray with a silver coffee pot, cream jug and one cup, some fruit and the cutlery needed to eat it.

"My Master thought you would like to eat now Gentlemen." He said, placing the tray close to Avon who opened his eyes slowly. Sando turned to Blake. "Sir, the Master is waiting for you to join him in the dining room."

Blake hesitated. "I don't think Avon should be left alone."

Avon scowled at him. "I shall be perfectly all right." When Blake still hesitated he added. "Go down Blake. I will shout for you, if I need you."

The house was darkened as Sando led Blake down the stairs to the dining room. Blake's mind was occupied with worry about Avon, hoping it would not be too long before the teleport was safe to use.

Vamesh was aware of his preoccupation at once, he had been standing by the fire gazing into the flames but turned as Blake entered. "I'm sorry to hear your friend has not been well today."

"My ship will be here soon." Blake informed him. "Once he is in our medical unit he will recover quickly." An expression Blake might have described as panic flashed in the other's eyes.

"They will send a shuttle down for you? Or will they land?" Vamesh indicated Blake should sit as he asked the question.

Something made Blake reluctant to answer truthfully. "A shuttle." Vamesh nodded, smiled and came to join him at the table.

Once again Blake was offered the most delicious food and wine while Vamesh ate nothing. Sando kept Blake's glass filled, and soon the potent dark red wine was having an effect.

"The people of the Federation are drugged into obedience. "Blake told his host bitterly. "Anyone who steps out of line is removed in any way possible, murdered, sent off world their memories stolen...."

"As you were?" Vamesh looked interested.

"Yes." Blake leant across the table. "When I started to recover my memory they set up a show trial, accused me of a crime guaranteed to cause the most distaste and packed me off to Cygnus Alpha."

"And Avon, is he a political criminal?"

"Avon, no." Blake smiled, then frowned. "He was an embezzler. A failed embezzler. Avon's just a thief, like Vila, really." Blake was warm, the wine glass felt cool as he pressed it to his forehead. "You could help us, you have money." He told Vamesh.

"I do?"

"Look at your home." Blake waved his hand indicating the plush elegance of their surroundings. "We could use that money to buy arms, pay informants, allies.... " He took a deep breath. The room was spinning slowly round and round. Only Vamesh remained stationary, his eyes fixed on Blake's. "You said you left Earth for similar reasons."

"I was hounded out." Vamesh came to his feet and helped Blake out of the chair and over to one of the soft easy chairs by the fire. Blake slumped comfortably, eyes closing, he was almost asleep. Cold fingers touched his face as Vamesh bent over him. Lazily Blake looked into the other's face and a memory stirred. Vamesh's breath, cool on his cheek, smelt earthy and damp. "They didn't like my eating habits." The voice reached Blake as if from a great distance. "Avon first, I think. He may not last much longer. Then you." The fingers left his face as Blake's wine befuddled brain tried to make sense of the words. Then he was alone.

Avon was dozing lightly, the day had taken a lot out of him. He wished Blake would come back, he needed something to focus on, to keep the nightmares at bay, but he would not ask. The tray lay on the table close to his hand but he had eaten nothing, the coffee had helped as it had that morning. Gradually Avon became aware that he was not alone in the room. "Blake?" He asked, opening his eyes. There was a dark shape at the foot of the bed, between him and the fire. The light seemed to sink into it. "Vamesh I presume."

Vamesh smiled, though Avon could not see him. "Good, you are awake." He said moving slowly to the head of the bed, to Avon's right.

Avon twisted, as best he could, to keep the other in his line of sight. Something about Vamesh made his skin crawl. "Where is Blake?" He asked at last.

"Blake is sleeping. Don't worry he is all right. For the moment."

"What do you mean?" Avon demanded, he left a chill of fear, he was trapped helpless and Vamesh was terrifying.

Vamesh touched Avon, very lightly, on his injured shoulder. Avon flinched away. "Don't worry." He purred. His fingers moved to Avon's throat, his eyes fixed on his face. Avon found he could not look away, he was sinking into the dark eyes so close to his own, losing the power to resist, losing even the will. The fingers were cold, ice spread outward from the place they rested. Vamesh parted his lips to reveal teeth that looked too sharp, too long, he ran his tongue over them in obscene anticipation.

Terror gripped Avon as Vamesh bent over him. He could barely move. Then his hand hit upon the silver coffee pot. He felt Vamesh's breath on his neck, heard him hiss softly, an animal sound. Avon lifted the coffee pot then brought it down across Vamesh's shoulders. Vamesh loosened his hold slightly and Avon tried to pull away. Vamesh held him with ease, snatching the coffee pot from Avon and flinging it away. The mirror over the fire place shattered. Vamesh moved again. Bending over Avon a smile formed on his lips as he bared his teeth.

"Blake!" Avon tried to shout as Vamesh's cold lips closed on his neck. A tongue licked at his throat, seeking and finding the warmth of blood flowing through a vein. For a moment Vamesh held totally still, savouring the feel of the blood pulsing in Avon's throat, the living warmth. Avon tried to move again.

"No." Vamesh breathed and Avon felt the sharp teeth bite down. Blake sat up suddenly as his bracelet sounded. Slightly muzzy he tried to remember where he was. The bracelet sounded again, he thumbed it open. "Blake?"

"Are you all right?" Jenna asked, concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine." He said sitting up. "Are you ready to teleport?"

"Zen said there will be a break in the interference in twenty minutes, can you be ready?"

"Yes." Blake replied. "I'll see you then, out." As he closed the connection Blake heard the sound of breaking glass. "Avon!" Was he delirious again Blake wondered. As he made for the stairs at a run Blake thought he heard his name called.

Avon was losing consciousness. His world shrinking until it held only himself and Vamesh. He could feel Vamesh's mouth at his throat, the creature's teeth biting into the flesh. He could feel the warm pulse of his own blood and Vamesh's gentle sucking, drawing the warmth from his body leaving him cold and empty. There was no pain, nothing violent now, just an intense chill spreading toward his centre from his limbs. "Blake!" He called again.

Blake practically ran into the bedroom then froze at the door. Vamesh's black shape was draped across the bed, his head pressed to Avon's throat. His back was to Blake, he did not seem to be aware of him at all.

"What the hell!" Blake grabbed Vamesh's shoulder and pulled him away from Avon. Avon did not move. Vamesh twisted out of Blake's hold with an animal growl of rage and turned to face him. Blake stared, sickened when he saw the blood on Vamesh's mouth. Avon's blood. "What are you?" He whispered in horror. Vamesh did not reply, he raised his hands, fingers bent like claws and dived at Blake's face.

Blake drew the Liberator hand gun and fired, almost point blank into the advancing shape. Vamesh took the blast full in the stomach, flew backwards, hitting the bed and slid to the floor.

With shaking fingers Blake reholstered his gun, never taking his eyes off the thing on the floor. A soft moan from the bed drew his attention to Avon. He moved swiftly to the other side of the bed, to see how badly Avon had been hurt. Avon was losing blood from an injury to his throat, the pillow was soaked already. Blake lifted a cloth from the tray and pressed it against the bite marks. Avon moaned at the touch and tried to pull away. Blake reached out with shaking fingers to touch his face.

"It's all right Avon. He's dead." He said softly.

On the far side of the bed something stirred. As Blake bent closer to Avon Vamesh stood up, Blake starred horrified as the obscenely blood stained parody of his gracious host leered at him across Avon's body. Then Vamesh moved. His hands slammed into Blake's chest knocking him backwards, away from Avon. Desperately Blake grabbed for a hold on the small side table and missed, succeeding only in picking up the knife. The force of the push knocked Blake to the floor, he lay there, winded as Vamesh leapt onto the bed.

Vamesh stood there a moment, astride Avon's unmoving form, staring down at Blake. Slowly his tongue came from between his lips and he licked at the blood staining them. Evidently savouring the moment, and the power, he looked down at Avon. Avon moaned.

Blake staggered to his feet, almost falling over a low stool. Vamesh smiled and leapt from the bed straight at Blake. He hit Blake in the chest with tremendous force, slamming him to the floor again and crashing down on top. Trapping Blake's hand between their bodies.

The air was ripped by a savage animal scream of rage and agony, a wetness flowed over Blake's trapped hand and Vamesh's body arched backwards, trying to pull away. Blake forced the knife hard into the chest of his opponent, burying it to the hilt in the monster's chest. Vamesh screamed again, and Blake could feel his blood, warm and sticky on his hand, staining his clothes. The scream tore at Blake and with it a wind seemed to rise tugging at his hair and clothes as he lay pinned beneath the monster that had played so gracious a host and still Blake drove the knife home. Vamesh went suddenly limp, a dead weight holding Blake down. The howling of the wind seemed to intensify, the sound of a thousand voices screaming on agony, and it's strength grew tearing a the furnishings of the room.

Blake forced his eyes open, Vamesh's face was inches from his own, twisted in death, blood trickling from it's mouth. As Blake watched the features shifted and reformed into an older face, wizened with age, the skin thinly stretched over knife edged check bones. Blake swallowed bile, desperately trying to control his stomach. He rolled the body away, then stared at the blood which stained his chest and abdomen. The knife was deeply embedded in Vamesh's chest, he left it there. As he watched the wind tore at the corpse's face and hair and the features changed again.

Blake staggered to his feet and over to the bed. Around him the walls of the room shivered, the panelling falling away, the plaster crumbling from the stone. The wind was tearing at the bed now. Avon moaned slightly as the sheet whipped away. Blake pulled him into his arms and lifted the other man off the bed. He crouched on the floor, using his body to protect the unconscious man as the gale intensified.

The wind was incredibly strong, pulling at Blake, trying to tear Avon out of his arms. Blake clung to his friend and closed his eyes.

Lost in the howling gale the Liberator bracelet sounded twice.

"Blake! Blake are you all right?" Cally's voice cut through the silence. Blake did not move. She threw a concerned glance at her companions then the three began to pick their way over the ruins towards the slumped shape.

"What are they doing here?" Vila muttered, looking round at the bleak landscape and tumbled stone. "I mean would you have chosen to stop here?"

"Blake said Avon was hurt, perhaps they had no choice." Gan replied, concerned. Closer now they could see both men tumbled together in the wreckage. Avon in Blake's arms, Blake leaning over him as if protecting him. Neither figure showed any sign of life and both were dressed in rags.

"Ughh!" Vila shouted stopping suddenly, Gan almost tripped over him. The thief was looking down at a heap of rags.

"What is it?"

"A body." Vila replied tearing his eyes from the skeletal remains. "I wouldn't have stopped here under any circumstances and I don't think they would either. "

"Gan, Vila!" Cally's shout was shot through with panic, the two men exchanged worried glances then ran to where Cally knelt in front of the fallen bodies of their friends. Vila stopped again at the sight of a second skeletal form, closer to the two men. Giving it a wide berth he joined Cally and Gan. to his horror he saw both Avon and Blake were covered in blood, far too much blood.

Tentatively Cally reached for Avon's wrist, searching for a pulse, Gan following suit with Blake.

"Well?" Vila asked, pausing in his nervous hopping from foot to foot, he didn't like it here at all.

"He is alive." Cally said. The pulse was weak and thready but considering the amount of blood miraculous. "Gan?"

"Blake is fine. Feels almost normal." Gan replied, faintly puzzled. Vila grinned, then sobered instantly.

"Can we go now? I don't like it here."

"Do you ever?" Gan asked while Cally slipped a bracelet on Avon's wrist, checked Blake for same then called Jenna for teleport.

A little later Jenna and Vila made their way to the medical unit of the Liberator. Vila had been there earlier, but had been thrown out on the grounds he was a bigger hindrance than help. He had spent the rest of the time describing to Jenna, in graphic detail, the state in which they had found Avon and Blake. Jenna had glimpsed the two when she had teleported them back to Liberator, but only a glimpse. The Federation had chosen that moment to send a small surveillance ship their way, it had taken until now to lose it. Jenna was, thanks to Vila's gifted tongue, very apprehensive.

Both men were unconscious. Avon hooked up to a blood replacement unit, his right arm and shoulder in a cast. He looked very pale. Blake, although slightly paler than his norm, looked as if he were simply sleeping. Which, in fact he was, as Jenna soon ascertained from the readout on the medical computer.

Frowning Jenna joined the others by the diagnostic computer. "I thought you said Blake was covered in blood?" She accused Vila.

"He was." The thief protested. Jenna didn't look as if she believed a word.

"He was Jenna." Gan agreed with Vila. "But I wasn't his. In fact he looks just to have a slight bump on the head, and he's exhausted."

Vila went white. "It can't all have been Avon's." He said. "Not and him still be alive."

"No, Vila it wasn't. In fact the computers say some of it wasn't even human."

"There was nothing else there." Vila protested to Gan, "Except those skeletons and they didn't bleed recently."

"But they did." Blake's voice refuted.

"Welcome back." Jenna said, smiling. As Blake struggled to sit up she went to help. Blake's eyes found Avon, he watched for a moment then turned to Cally, eyebrows raised in a silent question.

"He has lost a lot of blood, but I think we were in time." Blake nodded, the relief obvious in his face.

"What do you mean, those skeletons had been bleeding?" Vila demanded. "I saw them, they were long dead."

Blake looked round at the faces of his crew. "You're not going to believe this." He began." But they were alive, one,at least, was a vampire. "

"Vampire!" Vila took a step backwards, away from Blake and bumped into Avon's bed. "You were attacked by a vampire!" He had gone quite pale.

Blake smiled, Cally looked blankly from face to face.

"No not me." Blake assured Vila. "Avon...." He paused a moment considering "It was saving me till later."

"Avon!" Vila leapt away from Avon's bed as if he had been stung.

"Will someone please explain? Vampire?" Cally demanded.

Blake obliged. Explaining, as far as he could, all that had happened on the planet, with frequent interruptions from Vila on the technicalities of vampires and vampirism.

"So." Vila concluded as Blake finished his tale. "If Avon was bitten by a vampire then he's going to become one."

"Rubbish Vila." Jenna snapped. "It's just children's stories,"

"If vampires do exist, then the rest might be true too." He protested.

"The stories say that a vampire kills it's victim, then they become vampires themselves." Gan told the thief calmly. "Avon didn't die."

Vila didn't look reassured. "Possibly, but I'm going to be keeping a close eye on him from now on."

"You do that Vila. I'm sure Avon will appreciate your concern." Blake smiled, then yawned.

"Everybody out." Cally decided. "Blake needs some sleep."

"You're going to sleep in here? With him?" Vila asked incredulously.

"Yes." Blake replied settling back, smiling at the thief's expression of horror.

"Well don't come running to me if you wake up dead." Vila told him as he left the unit.

Blake's laughter followed him out.

 


End file.
